


The Automatons and the Toymaker

by Vyobid



Category: Die Wichtelmänner | The Elves and the Shoemaker (Fairy Tale)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28562454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyobid/pseuds/Vyobid
Summary: Ives Atkin Beaumont is a poor toymaker that can't create a functioning toy no matter how hard he tries.





	The Automatons and the Toymaker

**Author's Note:**

> A short story spin-off of the shoemaker and the elves. I wrote this for school but I actually quite like it so I thought it'd be fun if I posted it.

Tick-tock... Tick-tock.... DING! DING! DING! 

“Ah,” a grating and jaded voice rasps. “It’s morning already?” The sun melts over the somber horizon, golden droplets spilled over the tall, leaning stacked homes and factories. White clouds wisp through the cobbled streets, and the lamps emit a low cold glow. Cogs and wheels, usually churning, stay still and seemingly frozen. Soon the golden droplets stopped spilling in, and instead, pierced into the floating city. It was as if the sun was peering over the horizon with its glare and it seemed to be glaring at a certain toy maker, Ives Atkin Beaumont. 

The sun could see a sagged slumped over figure that sprawled, almost pitifully, across a dinged-up steel workbench. Toys, broken locks, hammers, dulled carving knives and tools littered his table. The unfinished and flawed works of his practically mocked his credibility and sanity. Groaning, Ives heaved himself up, while grunting at the sharp cracks and clinks that shot out of his back. Begruntled, Ives looks down to notice his grimy state. His leather gloves were caked in oil while his previously auburn tailcoat was now completely smoky. But this didn’t matter to him. 

Ives's real attention was on his latest creation. A windup carousel. He stalks over to his workbench and brushed everything aside. He reaches down to gently bring up his new work to eye level. The toy was tiled in bronze plating, delicate carvings of clocks and swans danced on the crowns of the carousel. Wires that were silky thin, hung in intricate braids as they seamlessly attached to to swirling metal blue hydrangeas. Closely, you can see tiny fairies that gleefully prance around on the blue petals. Finally, there was the windup key, hidden and deliberately placed on the back of the carousel. Anxiously, Ives reached towards the key and turned it three times. 

Click... Click... Click... 

A sweet melody sprang out of the carousel, matching the pools of sunlight. It was almost as if the sun was rejoicing in the lovely tunes the carousel was making. The flowers twirled around while the fairies jumped from petal to petal. Ives stood entranced; he knew this moment wasn’t going to last long. The song continued until it sang its last note. The lightness in the room was gone, and silence seemed to roar in place of the melody. 

Again, Ives reaches towards the key and turned it three times. 

Click... Click... Click... 

Nothing. The silence screamed louder now. 

“Tsk.” Ives gripped his hands tight and screwed his eyes shut. He hurled the carousel right into the ground. Frustration and anger welled up and bit at his heart. The carousel shattered into uncountable pieces. Ives glared his hands and back at the ruins of his work. Heaving, Ives knew he couldn’t create a single toy. He was a failure of a toymaker. No matter what, everything he makes breaks in a heartbeat. Combing through his hair, he finally looked outside. 

A subtle amber glow of the sun breached his windows. Sighing, Ives decided to take a trip outside. He threw on his brown coat and walked out. Fresh dew stilled in the air; Ives felt water prick and smother his face. Shaking under his coat, he continued down on an orderly tiled road. Shops of all trinkets and sorts were strewn around the block. To his surprise, Ives noticed that it was so early in the day that he could just see a sliver of a deep sapphire sky. Normally, a resident here can’t see the sky because of the large billows of smog that would suffocate the blue. 

To his dismay, during his little walk, he remembered that he had smashed the last usable materials into the ground. There was a chance to none that he could salvage even the largest bits that broke off the carousel. Ives figured that he hadn’t been out in a while, so he might as well see take a gander in Mechaniczna Tower. 

The Mechaniczna Tower is the beating heart of Ives’ floating city. It is an amazing feat of the cohesion of magic and mechanical work. It would protect and maintains life whatever is in its range. The Tower holds a large marketplace where many of the store owners profit off tourists with their overpriced souvenirs. 

Ives was nearing the tower and glanced around. A sparse amount of people was sprinkled along the front of the majesty of the Mechaniczna Tower. The cogs and sound of creaking got louder as Ives approached close to the tower; carvings of monumental sizes decorated the tower top down. Nine clocks, each one made by the engineers of Mechaniczna Tower, formed a circle right of the base of the tower. It was truly a sight to see. 

Just as Ives was stepping into the large building, a poster slapped onto his face. Grumpy, Ives ripped his face away and looked back to glare at the piece of paper. On the poster, the letters that sprawl across reading, “THE FAMOUS TOYMAKER, JACQUES DE VAUCANSON, VISITING MECHANICZNA TOWER.” Suddenly, all of Ives's anger went away, instead excitement-filled its place. He gripped the paper closer noticing that Jacques De Vaucanson visit was today! 

In the midst of Ives's revelation, substantial amounts of people started to filter into Mechaniczna Tower. Through his wild panic, Ives looks up to find himself in a huge crowd! Somehow, the crowd had pushed Ives inside the building. Ives was incredibly bewildered and frankly confused. “Where did all these people come from?” Ives mumbled. 

Then, from the middle of the Mechaniczna Tower, speakers contort and buzz on. “WELCOME GENTLEMAN, LADIES, AND CHILDREN TO THE AWAITED VISIT OF JACQUES DE VANCANSON.” The crowd ruptured in loud cheer and applause. Ives leaned forward realizing why there was such a large crowd. Fortunately, Ives was quite excited himself, so he stood in anticipation. 

The speakers buzzed again, a booming voice ensued, “THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. NOW PLEASE WELCOME JACQUES DE VANCANSON TO THE STAGE.” The crowd roared louder now, people scream and held up posters of his face. The toymaker had finally made an appearance. Jacques made his way onto the stage walking elegantly with what seemed a metal cane. He had dawned on a tucked white button up shirt, black tuxedo pants, and a long grey coat that brushed the floor. 

The crowd calmed down and waited for what would occur. “Ahem, Greetings. I am Jacques de Vancanson, I am famous for the invention of automatons. Fortunately, today I will be presenting some of my greatest works for your viewing pleasure,” Jacques clear and stern voice cuts the air, and everyone was simply entranced. When Jacques was done talking, he brought up a large suitcase. Setting it down, the suitcase unfurled in mechanical glory. Arms and compartments slid out and creak out of the suitcase. Once the suitcase stopped transforming, the arms and compartments formed a tree-like shape. Each branch ended with a different automaton, while the trunk held automaton parts and tools. 

Ives was simply mystified. For the remainder of his visit, Jacques presented to the audience the absolute intricacy and fascinating movements of automatons. They were completely crafted without electricity and was powered by superior design and an ingenious creator. 

After Jacque’s amazing presentation. Ives left inspired and in pure wonder. His mind drifted to possibilities of the world of automatons while he vaguely walked to Mechaniczna Tower’s marketplace. Ives caught a whiff of oil and snapped out of his trance. Ives had reached his favorite store, “Randy’s Randomables.” It was a strange name, but Ives loves how he can buy cheap metal scraps with just a coin or two. 

Determined, Ives set out to create three automatons. Usually, each automaton has a certain set of skills that they can do exclusively. But, before Ives does that, he must actually create the mechanical doll. Ives swiftly buys his material with, sadly, the last of his money. Since the toys he creates are always broken in the end, he can’t sell any of them. The toymaker was extremely penniless. 

After Ives bought an adequate amount of materials, he carefully walked home. The cogs in his head swirled and pranced in overflowing schematics and ideas. 

It was already 6 PM when Ives got home. The sun was getting tired, the light was dimmer and bleak. His windows casted long shadows that swept his floor. As the night ticked on, Ives got to work. 

Day after day, Ives sat tucked with his workbench, hunched over working on the automatons. His gloves got oiler, his clothes got more torn, and his eyes sagged further. 

Finally, Ives slumped back. A week later, Ives had completed the automaton’s bodies. The moon’s light kissed the floating city, as Ives observed his work. On his dinged-up metal workbench, lay three beautiful metal dolls. Each one a different face and height. Hair like wires adorns the automaton’s head, complimenting the body and face shapes. 

That night, Ives goes to bed praying that his automatons won’t break. Squeezing his eyes shut, his body relaxes, and he goes to sleep. 

Tick-tock... Tick-tock.... DING! DING! DING! 

The sun strikes the morning, golden rays once again shoot into the floating city. Ives’ eyes flutter open as he awakens to his annoying alarm. Propping himself up, Ives rubbed the weariness out of his eyes. His eyes scanned his automatons from left to right. Ives noted that they were in good condition. But Ives spotted something so strange. 

His carousel sat without a single scratch right next to his automatons. He scrambled out of the bed and towards the workbench. Thoughts and questions flew through his head as he shakily grabs the carousel. “It’s real?!” Ives yelps in surprise. Curiously he turns the windup key. 

Click... Click... Click... 

Like the carousel was made yesterday, the same sweet melody graced the room. The sun danced in the sounds, while Ives stood baffled. Swallowing, Ives turns the carousel once again. 

Click... Click... Click... 

“Haha...” Ives laughs. Tears slowly and quietly slip down his face. The carousel was singing again. The sun danced again, and Ives couldn’t believe the sight. Again, and again Ives needed to confirm this miracle. He kept turning the windup key and listening to the same honey-like melody. 

Ives slept well that night. 

The following days, it kept happening. The past toys that Ives created were being created again! Ives could finally sell his works. Finally, he was no longer poor, no longer grimy, and could buy proper materials. Happiness swirled in his life. The sun seemed brighter, and the smoke seemed bleaker. 

But this didn’t solve one of the few gaping holes left in his mind. Who, or what is bringing his toys back? Thinking, Ives decided to stay up and watch his workbench. 

The night came. Ives rolled into bed and watched. Hours pass, while the moon silently rises. 

Creeaakkk... 

Automatons. Ives’ automatons were alive. Their tiny hands and feet curl and shift as each one rise from their resting place. Hastily, the automatons build throughout the night. The moonlight slips in and illuminates the automatons hard at work. Ives’ heart filled with joy. His automatons were beautiful. 

That morning Ives decided to gift his automatons with their own special skill set. He wanted to thank his automatons for their hard work. That same day, Ives completed each special set for all three automatons. Night came and... 

The automatons stopped.


End file.
